


Love At The End

by anon08



Category: The 100, queer the walking dead
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends, F/F, Kinda, Slow Burn, in which Elyza is like Lexa and Alicia is like Clarke and my head hurts a lot, lots of language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:04:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6509740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anon08/pseuds/anon08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The last things Alicia remembers are the heavy thud of her body into the soft flesh of the walker’s, the rotten smell of his skin, the dirty gray of the pavement that rushes up to meet her face, and the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle revving somewhere nearby."</p><p>Alicia Clark is separated from her family and rescued by an enigmatic stranger with a motorcycle and way too many guns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The novelty of being on a yacht wears off more quickly than Alicia had expected.

At first, it had seemed a little like a vacation. Alicia had sat on the side of the dinghy as it approached the yacht, skimming her fingers across the water and admiring the way the sun glinted off the silver block letters that spelled out “Abigail” above the boat’s rear swimming deck.

Then they had actually set foot on the yacht, and Alicia realized it was much bigger than she had been expecting, and about three times as nice.

“Ever wonder how he got so filthy rich?” Chris whispers in her ear, nodding at Strand, who is standing in the corner watching everyone admire the boat with a small smile on his face. And yes, maybe she has, but the guy helped her brother escape containment so he can’t be that bad.

In those first few days, she and Ofelia explore the yacht together, laying out on the upper deck, dangling their feet in the water, playing cards in the main room at the heart of the boat, trying to forget the fact that the world seems to be ending and they are stuck on some rich stranger’s yacht in the middle of the Pacific. Sometimes Chris joins them, and they play blackjack until Chris loses too many times and leaves in a huff, complaining that they’re cheating.

During this time the adults mostly let them do as they please, too busy being caught up in their own thoughts. Daniel sits in a corner, by himself, humming and polishing and re-polishing the guns he had brought on board. Occasionally, he takes a creased photo of his dead wife out from his chest pocket and looks at it, muttering in Spanish under his breath. Her mom and Travis huddle together, whispering, and Alicia doesn’t miss the way Travis anxiously wrings his hands and washes them too much, knows he is still sick over having to put a bullet in his ex wife’s brain. And Strand just sits, dressed as always in his impeccable suits, reading a book or occasionally scanning the horizon with his binoculars.

After three days though, Alicia gets bored. There’s only so much to do to occupy yourself on a boat, even one as nice and big as the Abigail. So on the fourth day of being out at sea, she goes to the wheelhouse and sit’s in the captain’s chair, propping her feet up on the dashboard and listening for any signs of life over the ship’s radio. She stays there for hours, occasionally lifting a pair of binoculars to her eyes and looking towards the coast they had left behind, but all she ever sees is brown cliffs and all she ever hears is static. She is just beginning to nod off in the chair when she hears Nick scream.

In an instant, she is on her feet, running towards the sound, which had seemed to come from the rear of the boat. She bursts onto the swimming deck and sees Nick in the water, his arms raised, as Daniel reaches down and hooks him under the shoulders, lifting him up onto the deck and laying him on his back.

Nick sputters, water dribbling out of his mouth, and Madison and Travis kneel at his head.

“Are you hurt?” Madison asks.

“What were you thinking?” Travis asks at the exact same time, and Madison shoots him a hard glare.

“There was someone…something out there.” Nick coughs out and points towards the water behind him.

Alicia is the first to see it, a body floating in the ocean about 50 feet from the edge of the boat. It’s a man, clothes shredded, legs weakly kicking behind him, propelling him forward inch by inch. Alicia takes in the bloated green-tinged face, the vacant eyes and wide gaping mouth, and knows he is one of the infected, probably washed from the beach by the tide.

“Get us out of here,” Travis yells, and Strand runs from where he had been watching from the back. Minutes later, the boat’s engine turns on and they move forward, the spray forcing the body far away.

As the Travis and Madison carry Nick back into the boat, Chris turns to Alicia. “Your brother’s a fucking mess,” he says, and Alicia can’t even bring herself to disagree.

**\------**

After that, they anchor again, because Daniel and Travis have decided that moving would make it harder for any other people to find them and Strand says that they need to conserve fuel. So they sit in place once again, the shore just barely viewable to the naked eye this time. Madison bans any of the kids from swimming, and tries to keep a sharper eye on them.

A week goes by, then two. Alicia’s tan gets darker, and her hair bleaches to a shade that is almost blonde. She tries to exercise, doing jumping jacks on the upper deck with Ofelia, but she still loses weight since all they eat is canned food.

At the beginning of the third week, Alicia and Ofelia sit in the wheelhouse, listening to the all too familiar sound of static, and Ofelia tries to teach her Spanish.

“Barco,” Ofelia says, “Boat.”

“Barco,” Alicia repeats.

“Ayuda. Help.”

“Ayuda.”

“Ayuda, estoy en un barco.”

“Ayuda…es…toy en un barco.” Alicia cringes at how bad she sounds, and Ofelia laughs lightly.

“We can work on pronunciation,” she says.

“Good,” Alicia smiles back at her.

“Ok,” Ofelia squints, trying to decide what to teach her next. “Necesita ir al bano.”

“What does that mean?” Alicia asked.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Necesita ir al bano.” Alicia drags each syllable out, trying to get it right.

“Great! But yeah I actually do.”

“Do what?”

“Have to go to the bathroom.” Ofelia stands up.

“Oh, right. The benefits of being surrounded by water 24/7.” Alicia jokes as Ofelia leaves.

With Ofelia gone, all Alicia can hear is the static from the radio. Then, suddenly, a garbled voice comes out of it.

“Hello. Hello is anyone..” the rest of the words are swallowed by a rush of static.

Alicia grabs the radio, her heart racing.

“Hello. I can hear you.” She says into it, hoping that it goes through.

“Hello!” The other voice, a man’s voice, comes through louder and clearer than before. “I can hear you too. We’re approaching from your port side.”

Alicia looks to her right and sees a tiny speck in the distance, moving in her direction.

“We have no infected.” The man says, and Alicia answers immediately.

“Neither do we.”

“How many in your party?”

“Eight.”

“Eight. Ok. It’s just me and my wife here. Permission to approach?”

For just a moment, Alicia hesitates, knowing she was supposed to have told someone as soon as she heard the radio go off.

_Fuck it._

“Yes. You have permission.”

Alicia drops the radio then and runs. She sees Ofelia in the hallway and grabs her hand. “Someone is coming.”

Later, her mother yells at her for not telling someone sooner, and Travis yells at her that these people could be dangerous and Strand stares at her with his arm crossed and Daniel gets his guns ready. But it is too late for anyone to do anything about it. The boat, just a speck before, is closer now and fast approaching.

And in the end, it turns out to be ok. The boat contains a sad, tired looking man and his quiet wife. The man tells them that the pair are heading to San Diego because they heard it didn’t get hit as bad and the man’s sister lives there. They were living on the boat, just off the shoreline, when it had all gone to shit, and they had listened helplessly to the radio as the situation progressed. They had been too scared to go back, choosing to wait it out instead. And then they were making a final pass along the LA shorelines when they spotted the Abigail and they had decided on a whim to approach. “I mostly just wanted to see if anyone else had survived,” the man says heavily, and for a moment everyone is silent, acknowledging the cost of their mortality. But there are decisions to be made.

“So, do you want to come with us?” The man asks, after the groups have finished exchanging their stories.

“Can you give us a moment?” Travis asks, and the man nods.

The eight of them go out on the deck to talk, and Alicia stays completely silent as she listens to her mom argue that they should give it a shot, even if it is the barest glimmer of hope. Travis argues back, saying that they have no idea if Los Angeles is completely overtaken yet. And Strand agrees with him, as does Daniel. Alicia feels a loosening in her chest as she realizes that she too had not wanted to leave. Los Angeles is the only place she has ever known.

In the end, the group decides to stay, to at least make one last stop in Los Angeles and see what they find. They wave grimly and toss hollow wishes of good luck as the man and his wife get back on their boat.

When they are gone, Strand turns to Travis. “So, back to hell?”

And Madison turns away angrily but Travis just says, “Yes.”

**\------**

They leave the next morning, the goal being to get supplies and evaluate just how bad the situation had become.

They dock at Venice beach and step on land with shaky legs that had almost forgotten what solid ground felt like. They walk through the deserted sidewalks of the once bustling beach, see abandoned buildings, some looted or destroyed, others relatively untouched. Bodies, mostly walkers, but some unmistakably human, lay littered around them, bullets through their heads, the product of one of the army’s raiding parties. Alicia tries not to stare as she walked by.

Chris walks a little ahead of the group, filming on his little handheld camera, a new obsession (“For documenting the end of humanity” he says) when he stops in front of a building. “Freak Show” it advertises in bright red letters. “Come see the bearded lady and the two headed turtles.”

Chris walks towards the double glass doors, trying to read whatever else is being advertised while keeping up his running commentary. “This is a freak show at the end of the world”. He leans forward to poke his camera through a hole in the window when it falls from his hand and crunches on the hard floor inside of the building. Before anyone can stop him, he runs to his left and pushes the double doors of the building open, his mind only on his camera and all the footage it held.

And all of a sudden it is chaos.

Because as soon as Chris nudges the door open, he is pushed flat on his back by a mass of walkers. The sounds of their shuffling feet and moaning, gaping mouths fill the air as they burst out in a mass of rotting, writhing human flesh.

Ophelia screams. Nick freezes. Daniel yells and pulls out a gun, blasting the first few walkers in front of him, allowing Chris to scramble to his feet and run back to the group. Travis and Madison pull out weapons and try to defend their children. Strand calmly stands at the back with a baseball bat resting against the shoulder of his expensive suit, waiting for the walkers to reach him.

But Alicia, who had been told by her mother when they were on the boat that she was not ready for weapons yet, was off to the side looking at a run down souvenir shop and was completely defenseless. So she runs, swiftly sprinting between two buildings, pursued by a handful of the swarm that can move faster, the fresher ones. She runs fast and far and further still until she turns a corner and, with a sickening thud, sprints into a burly walker who had just emerged from a doorway.

The last things Alicia remembers are the heavy thud of her body into the soft flesh of the walker’s, the rotten smell of his skin, the dirty gray of the pavement that rushes up to meet her face, and the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle revving somewhere nearby.

**\------**

She regains consciousness a few minutes later, finds herself face down on the concrete and sees booted feet in her line of vision. She can hear the sound of rapid shots being fired above her head, one after the other after the other, followed by the sickening splatter of decaying bodies falling to the pavement. Hot blood drips over her eyes and down her chin, so she turns her head upward to try to stop its flow. Through bleary eyes she sees the cloudless blue of the Los Angeles sky, the sun’s rays blinding her momentarily. Then, out of nowhere, a flash of blonde hair leans over her, followed by a pale face and pink lips and blue eyes that match the sky exactly. The face moves closer, eclipsing the sun, and then all Alicia can see is the blue of those eyes and the inky blackness of the pupils which seem to grow bigger and bigger until all she sees is black.

**\------**

When Alicia wakes again, she is being carried by a pair of strong arms until she is laid down onto a soft couch. A pillow is placed under her head, and footsteps walk away from her then back again. A glass of water and a bowl and rags and medical kit are deposited on the table in front of her. She feels a soft, damp cloth as it’s pressed to her forehead. When she opens her eyes, the edges of her vision are still black, so she blinks a few times, trying to get it to clear. After a little while, it works. She tests her hands, feels the steady pain of bruises on her arms, but nothing broken, then reaches up and touches her temple. When she brings her fingers back in front of her eyes they are coated with blood. “Fuck.” She hears rustling to her right and tries to sit up, but stops when a pair of hands come to rest on her shoulders. And then, kneeling before her, is a girl.

The girl looks relatively young, maybe a year or two older than Alicia. Her blonde hair hangs to her shoulders in loose waves, and there is a bandage under her left eye and a bruise that has almost faded completely on her jawbone. The girl’s eyes, sky blue, stare at her without expression.

“Don’t move.” The girl says, and leans her back down onto the couch cushions. She removes the cloth on Alicia’s forehead, then dips a rag in the bowl of water and presses it to Alicia’s temple. When she pulls the cloth back, it’s bright red and Alicia watches as the girl puts it back in the bowl, clouding the water red. The girl cleans the rest of her face, then presses a clean corner of the cloth to her lips. Alicia inhales harshly at the sudden sharp pain.

“You have a gash on your forehead, a black eye, a nose that you’re lucky isn’t broken, and a split lip,” the girl says, in a way that is both matter of fact and unsympathetic, though her pressure on Alicia’s mouth let’s up slightly.

By the time the girl is done, the water in the bowl is dark crimson, and Alicia feels nauseous looking at it.

Then, the girl pulls out a small flashlight. She shines it into one of Alicia’s eyes, then the other. She holds one finger up. “Follow it.” She moves the finger to Alicia’s right and then left, and nods to herself when Alicia does so.

“What’s your name?” She asks, and Alicia tries to answer but her mouth is so dry that she can’t seem to get her tongue to move.

“Here,” the girl reaches for the glass of water and brings it to her lips. “Sip it.”

Alicia takes some of the water and eases it past her chapped lips. She tries again. “Alicia,” she chokes out. “Alicia Clark.”

“Where are you from?”

“Pasadena.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“June fourteenth.”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“Do you have family? What are their names?”

At that Alicia hesitates, balking at this personal line of questioning, and she can tell the girl senses it. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t have a concussion,” she says gruffly.

Alicia nods, “Ok. There’s my mom, Madison. Brother, Nick. My step dad Travis, and his kid Chris.” She thinks of the Salazars, Ofelia and Daniel, and of Strand and how close they all became out of necessity, and adds, “And there are a few others with them as well.”

The girl nods, apparently satisfied. She opens the medical kit and pulls out a tube of antiseptic and a bandage. She makes quick work of bandaging the gash on Alicia’s temple, her fingers deftly applying the balm and then wrapping and tucking until the gauze is held firmly in place. Alicia knows she probably looks ridiculous and almost makes a joke about it, but the hard set of the other girl’s mouth makes her think the humor would be wasted.

When the girl is done, Alicia lays back down, glad all of that is done with since the throbbing in her head, and the rest of her body for that matter, only feels like it’s getting worse. The girl sees her grimacing.

“Could have been worse. You could be a walker now if I hadn’t happened to be around there.” The girl turns and sits at a table next to the couch, where a pile of guns and ammo sits. She takes one and checks it, removing the bullets from their chamber.

Alicia wants to retort that she could have handled it herself, but her weakened state makes her feel unable to argue. “Yeah, thanks for that,” she says instead.

The girl nods in acknowledgment, but keeps her eyes trained on her guns. In a matter of moments, Alicia seems to have been forgotten.

With her rescuer occupied, Alicia takes a moment to take in her surroundings. From what she can see, they’re in someone’s home. The living room specifically. It’s large but cozy, tastefully decorated. There’s a tv hanging on the wall directly across from the couch, stationed above a fake fireplace. She sees picture frames on the walls, a happy family smiling for eternity, a dog playing fetch on a beach, a child’s drawing. If not for all the boarded up windows and the huge pile of guns on the table, Alicia could almost believe she was in the real world again and not the apocalypse. But then Alicia looks at the woman, at the injuries on her face, at her combat boots and no nonsense leather jacket and the empty shotgun holster strapped to her back, and she remembers that the living are at war with the dead.

She turns away from the sight and closes her eyes, tries to sleep because sometimes in her dreams she can pretend that none of this ever happened.

**\------**

“So, does my savior have a name?” Alicia’s head has stopped throbbing for the moment and she is sitting up now, staring at the other girl, who appears to be looking at a map of Los Angeles. She doesn’t know how long she slept, but through the cracks in the boarded up windows she can see a dark, sunless sky.

“Elyza.”

“Elyza.” Alicia weighs the name in her mouth. “Elyza. Interesting.”

Elyza ducks her head in a nod.

“Big talker.” Alicia says with sarcasm, but the other girl’s eyes remain on the map. “So where are we? How did you find me? How did we get here?”

With a heavy sigh, Elyza pushes the map away, as if Alicia was interrupting something of the utmost importance. Alicia half expects to get a “shut up” in response, but Elyza surprises her by answering, albeit in the most disinterested voice she has ever heard.

“We’re still in Venice, not far from where I found you. I was close by, on my bike. Heard people yelling and went towards it, and then I came across you. Killed that fucking massive walker and the other ones who followed you and then brought you back here.” At this last part, a small smile plays over Elyza’s mouth, and Alicia thinks it makes her whole face soften, but it’s gone all too soon. “And then I brought you back here.” She gestures at the house. “Just some random place I found a few days ago.”

“And you didn’t see anyone else? I was with a group. My family.”

“No,” Elyza shakes her head. “I heard people, but they were a long way off and I didn’t know how many walkers I’d be facing so I bailed.”

Alicia accepts this, but rests her head in her hands, the guilt of being relatively fine while the rest of her group could be in danger making her chest feel tight. She thinks of Nick and her mother and feels a warm twinge in her chest. “You should have saved them instead,” she murmurs, “I would’ve found a way out.”

The girl snorts dismissively. “Like hell you would have. Don’t you remember? You were pretty much knocked out when I got there.”

It’s the second time the girl has said something with that underlying tone of mockery, and Alicia’s face burns with the urge to retort, but again she bites her tongue.

“Sure. And thank you again for that. And for all this,” she gestures at the bandages on her face. “But I should probably go try to find the others now.” She pushes off the couch and stands up, but a sudden wave of nausea hits her. She fights it for a moment, takes another step, but she knows a split second too late that this was probably a bad idea as her knees start to give out underneath her. For the second time that day, she watches the ground rise up to meet her, but this time Elyza catches her. For a moment, Alicia sees worry in the other girl’s eyes, but in an instant their blankness returns and Alicia thinks she must have imagined it.

“I told you not to move,” Elyza snaps as she none too gently slings Alicia’s arm over her shoulder.

“Fuck that _,_ ” Alicia says, but she allows herself to be led until she can fall gratefully back onto the couch. Elyza repeats her test with the flashlight from earlier, but this time she stays kneeling in front of Alicia.

“So I guess all it takes for me to get any reaction out of you is to almost pass out. Noted.” Alicia is teasing, sort of, but Elyza doesn’t laugh.

“Why were you out there by yourself?” She asks seriously. “You’re just a kid.”

Alicia narrows her eyes. “Can’t I say the same about you?”

Elyza shrugs but doesn’t take the bait. “But I’m prepared.” Alicia’s eyes flicker over the massive pile of guns on the table. She’s not lying. “You didn’t even have a weapon. Which, if you ask me, is sheer stupidity and recklessness.” Her tone, once again, is holier than thou, as if she can’t possibly fathom Alicia’s actions.

And Alicia has had enough. In the space of a day she has returned to her destroyed home town and lost the only family she has that she knows are still alive, and now she has to deal with this callous stranger. She snaps.

“Well I’m _sorry_ we can’t all have a thousand guns and be weird killing machines like you. I was with people who cared about me and thought they could protect me and didn’t think I needed a fucking gun on a supply run. I’d rather be unprepared with a family that loves me than totally prepared but fucking alone, like you.” She spits out. She regrets it almost immediately, knows it was just the stress and the pain making her crazy, but she can’t take it back now.

She tenses for Elyza’s reaction, but is surprised by the steady gaze she is met with. Nothing about what she has just said seems to faze the other girl. Instead, Elyza’s eyes bore into her own, cool blue meeting blazing green, and finally Alicia has to look away. She lies down and curls her body into the couch cushions, as far away from the other girl as possible.

She hears Elyza stand up. When she speaks, her tone is level. “I’ll look for the rest of your group tomorrow. You’ll need to rest here, save your strength. I’ll find them.”

Elyza walks away then, flicking the light switch off as she leaves the room. Alicia can hear her walking through the house, presumably checking the windows and exits, making sure there are no surprise guests in the night. Eventually, she hears a door close upstairs, and the footsteps stop. Alicia presses her once again aching head back into the pillow and wishes she could rewind back to that morning. She would tell everyone that going to San Diego was the right choice, that there was nothing but pain for them in Los Angeles. But she can’t, and now she’s all alone. She feels her eyes well with tears and reaches up to wipe them away angrily. She is safe, and her family will be too. And tomorrow she will find them. She will be strong


	2. Chapter 2

When Alicia wakes up, the pain in her head is duller and more manageable. Through the slits in the boarded windows, she can see that the sky is a dark gray, just beginning to tinge orange. She’s up before the sun. She sits up, rolling her shoulders and flexing her muscles. They are sore but not useless. She stands up, and waits a moment, but there is no blackness, no rush towards the ground. She smiles.

She walks to the kitchen and opens a cupboard, finds a can of diced peaches in one of them and eats them hungrily, licking the syrup off her fingers. Then she walks through the rest of the house. Aside from the living room and kitchen, there’s a study and a half bathroom downstairs. A door to what is probably a basement that Alicia avoids.  More pictures of the happy family who once lived there line the walls. Alicia passes them without a second glance, doesn’t want to think about what probably happened to those smiling faces. She walks up the stairs, quietly, knowing Elyza is probably still asleep. In the upstairs hallway she sees a large mirror and stops in front of it.

She looks like death. Like she’s one step away from being a walker herself. The skin around her right eye is a deep blackish purple, the green of her iris standing out in stark contrast. Her lip is swollen, with a large crack through the bottom that she tests with her tongue. She hisses at the pain it brings. Her arms are a quilt of bruises and small cuts that are an angry red from the pavement she fell on. And the bandage wrapped around her forehead is the ridiculous cherry on top, making her look like some half assed mummy. Her clothes are dirty and bloodstained. She turns away from the mirror quickly.

She walks by a closed door, giving it a wide berth since it’s probably the bedroom that Elyza is crashing in.  She goes to the end of the hallway and walks through an open door into another bedroom. This one is clearly a teenager’s room. There are band posters on the wall, painting supplies and books scattered around. Alicia opens the closet and pulls out a clean shirt. It’s a faded grey band t-shirt, with maroon letters that advertise “The Grounders 2013 World Tour,” with all of the tour dates listed on the back. She removes her stained, ripped t-shirt and puts the new one on, layers it under her favorite white bomber jacket and blue flannel shirt, both of which have remained relatively clean. The windows upstairs aren’t boarded up, so she opens one and steps out onto the flat roof that covers the front porch. She sits gingerly and leans against the side of the house. The sun is rising now, the sky showing off its brilliant shades of orange and pink. From here she can see the rest of the neighborhood, the abandoned cars that clog the streets. She cups her hand over her eyes and looks farther, past the streets and the houses towards the sea. The ocean is calm, and empty, and Alicia sighs. A foolish part of her wished the Abigail would be out there, sitting right where it used to be.

But then...the sun catches something, and there’s a flash of reflection off of metal or glass. Alicia squints and thinks she sees a dot, something out there on the waves, not moving. In an instant she is on her feet and through the window. She pads down the hallway, moving quickly but quietly past the still closed bedroom door. Downstairs, she grabs a gun off the table and a shoulder holster. She puts it on, the gun tucked against her side uncomfortably. At the door, she stands still, listens for any sound from above, but hears nothing. With deep breath, she steps out the door, closing it as quietly as possible. At the edge of the street she turns back and looks at the house, spares one thought about the girl who’s sleeping inside who saved her life. The girl who thinks she’s useless. But Alicia can handle herself. She sarcastically salutes the house and turns to leave.

**\------**

It’s an overcast day, cool and grey. A slight wind sends tendrils of Alicia’s hair flying around her face as she makes her way back towards the beach. She walks for a while, until she spots a bike resting against a curb. She grabs it and bikes the rest of the way. Luckily, it’s not far, a mile or two at most, and her aching muscles are able to handle the relatively simple physical activity. She bikes down the length of Venice beach, right along the sand, until she finds herself at the freak show building, the place where it all went to shit. She drops the bike there and walks, looking through windows. She comes to a stop at the entrance to a souvenir t-shirt stand, takes the gun out of it’s holster and holds it out in front of her, her arms rigid. With the gun pointed forward, she walks into the store.

It’s completely empty. The overhead lights flicker every few seconds but remain on, filling the space with a harsh fluorescent glow. Alicia holsters the gun and grabs t-shirts off the wall by the handful, stuffing them into the pockets of her jacket until they bulge. Then she shoves some under her arms, grabs a fistful in each hand, and makes her way towards the beach itself. Carrying the shirts is awkward but she manages to get to where she wants to go without dropping any. She stops on the sand, halfway from the edge of the beach and the ocean, and drops the shirts there. There’s a lifeguard tower a couple dozen feet away, but otherwise this part of the beach is empty. She glances at the small pile of t-shirts on the sand and realizes it’s going to take quite a while to do what she wants to do. She steels her shoulders and turns back to the boardwalk.

For the next few hours, she makes countless trips between the boardwalk and her spot on the beach. She searches all of the nearby souvenir shops and grabs as many t-shirts as possible. When those run out she grabs newspapers and flyers from the stands that line the sidewalks. Then she starts going into the restaurants. She grabs boxes of napkins, lugging them to the beach and spilling their contents onto her growing pile. Tablecloths are thrown on top, then dining chairs. Slowly but surely the pile starts to grow. When she’s checked all of the stores in her immediate area, she goes farther down the boardwalk and repeats the process. More t-shirts, more newspapers, more blankets and tablecloths. She gets lucky—there don’t seem to be many walkers in the area. In one restaurant she finds one growling through the circular window of a supply closet, but other than that, she doesn’t encounter any.

Eventually, the pile reaches above her waist. She looks at it and realizes she’ll need things that create more smoke. She goes back to the boardwalk and grabs palm fronds that have fallen from their trees, seeming to remember someone or something from a lifetime ago that taught her that plants create more smoke. Collecting the palm leaves takes another hour or two, and by the time she is done the sky is darker and the wind has picked up. She puts the last of the palm trees into the pile, then makes one last trip to the boardwalk. In one of the nicer restaurants, she finds a handle of vodka and opens it, taking a swig. She grimaces at the taste but takes the bottle with her. In the kitchen, she roots through the drawers and until she finds a large pastry torch. She tests it, finds that it still works, and takes that too.

Back at the beach, she balls up some newspapers and arranges them at the bottle of the pile, along with some leaves. She takes an armful of t-shirts and soaks them in the vodka, then throws those at the bottom too. After one more swig of vodka for herself, she pours the rest of the liquid around the pile, trying to cover as much as she can. When the alcohol is completely gone, she takes the torch and lights the shirts at the bottom. It takes a few long seconds, but then blue fire rises up along the top of the shirts. The flame from them ignites the newspapers, which burn fiercely, and the flames slowly start to catch on the other alcohol soaked items.

Now all Alicia can do is wait.

She walks over to the lifeguard stand, figuring that if anyone or anything comes close to her, she’ll be able to see them from the raised platform, giving her the advantage. When she gets to the stand she walks up the ramp leading to the opened doorway and sinks gratefully against its side, her sore muscles gratefully ceasing their exertion. She takes the gun from the holster and lays it on the floor, inches from her right hand. She looks out towards the ocean, thinking about her mom and Nick and Ofelia and the rest of them, hoping they are ok. Hoping that what she is doing will work, that they will see the smoke and come back for her. Then, she looks towards the slowly growing fire, watching orange flames lick at the wood of the dining chairs. This feeling, alcohol in her system and a fire on the sand, is so familiar, and she tries not to think of other bonfires on the beach, knows it will happen anyway. She closes her eyes and lets her memories swim to the surface.

_“Hey babe.” Matt shuts the door on his friend Eric’s car and walks toward her, a fifth of Burnett’s in one hand and a gallon of lemonade in the other. Alicia turns from where she had been talking to her best friend Maria and throws herself at him, hugging him fiercely._

_“I missed you,” she murmurs against his chest, her eyes closed._

_He chuckles. “Didn’t I just see you at school a few hours ago?”_

_“Yes but I still missed you.”_

_He separates from her for just a moment, to put down the bottles he’s carrying. Then he cups her face in his hands, kisses her forehead. “I missed you too,” he whispers so that just she can hear it, then he kisses her on the lips. Her knees go weak._

_“Ok lovebirds, let’s get a move on.” Maria calls over to them, ever the impatient one._

_Alicia feels Matt smile against her mouth. “Shall we?” He grabs the bottles again and they walk together towards the beach, his arm slung around her shoulder, hers around his waist._

_Matt and Eric dig a shallow pit on the beach and get the fire going as more of their friends show up. Jordan and Chris arrive, bringing with them speakers and alcohol. Blake and Kelsey show up next, with a grocery bag full of snacks. Soon, the gathering is in full swing._

_Matt makes his way over to where she is sitting on the sand, nursing a beer, and sits behind her, his front pressed to her back, his legs bracketing hers. She leans back into him and they stay like that for a while, talking to their friends. Matt jokes with Blake, and Jordan tries to flirt with both Kelsey and Maria and Chris and Eric challenge each other to a power hour and Alicia feels so full and happy with her friend’s around her, the fire lighting their faces._

_Later, she and Matt sneak away by themselves, walking hand in hand along the beach. He grabs her waist and pulls her towards him and she giggles and slings her arm around his neck. They kiss languidly, as the waves roll over their feet and dampen the bottoms of their rolled up jeans. Matt pulls away, looks at her in the eyes, and says, “I love you, Alicia Clark,” and she pulls him back in._

Alicia jolts awake, her lips tingling, and rubs at her misty eyes. She must have dozed off. She looks towards the ocean. Still nothing. But when she looks to her right, the fire is surrounded by walkers.

**\------**

“Fuck!” Alicia scrambles to her feet, the gun in her hand. The walkers hadn’t seemed to have noticed her before, but at the sound, the closest one turns around and spots her. It lumbers towards her, feet sliding through the sand, one hand reaching out towards her. Her hands start to sweat and shake, and the gun slips out of it, landing with a smack at her feet.

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

At that, more walkers around the fire turn their heads toward her, realizing their next meal could be right in front of them. A mass of them breaks off and heads in her direction. Alicia sees them and her heart races. She reaches down and grabs the gun again in her right hand, brings her left up to steady it. She aims the barrel of it at the closest walker’s head, right between its eyes. Everything seems to fall away then, the air stilling around her, sound dropping away until all she can hear is the steady crashing of waves on sand and all she can see is the pale blue globes of the walker’s eyes as it draw closer to the tower.

She pulls the trigger.

Nothing happens.

The trigger doesn’t even seem to move at all. She stares at the gun, and the world starts moving again, reality crashing back in and bringing with it the sounds of growling, salivating mouths. The walker is much too close for comfort now, just a few feet away from the ramp that leads up to the tower. She tries to focus on the gun, though the adrenaline makes it hard, and that’s when she notices a switch on the back. The safety, of course. She flips the safety to what she hopes is the off position with her thumb. Then she aims the gun again, exhales, and pulls the trigger. This time, it gives.

The bullet rips a hole through the walker’s left eye. Not where she had been aiming, but good enough. The recoil sends ripples through her arms, and her hands sting, but she holds onto the gun. The walker falls to its knees in front of her, then topples to the side.

She doesn’t have much time to celebrate her small victory though, as the other walkers are not at all affected by seeing one of their own slain in front of their eyes. She brings the gun up again, to the next closest walker, and shoots. This time her aim is way off, and the bullet hits it in the shoulder, slowing its progress for a just a moment. She tries again, and is rewarded by the sight of rotten brains splattering as the bullet smashes into the walker’s left temple. Another walker moves to fill the old one’s place, but when Alicia pulls the trigger, nothing happens. She tries again and again, her hand cramping around the warm metal, but all she hears is a horrible clicking sound. The gun is jammed, and she has nothing now.

“Godammit.” She throws the gun, striking the walker in the face, but it hardly seems to notice.

Alicia is scared now, adrenaline replaced by fear, and she backs away into the interior of the tower. She leans against the back wall, gasping for air and looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. But the tower is completely empty except for a table and chair in one corner and a dusty life preserver in the other. She grabs the table and flips it on its side, sliding it over so that it covers the entrance, then leans her body against it. She pants with the exertion.

A minute goes by, then another, and then she hears the horrible, slow rasp of feet against wood. The dragging footsteps go right up to the table and then Alicia feels a push against it. She pushes back with all her weight, her feet slipping on the worn wooden floor. More footsteps follow the first ones, and the weight on the other side of the table gets heavier. Alicia doesn’t know how long she can hold it. Her body burns as she tries to lean still more of her weight against the door.

Then, from outside, she hears a yell and a round of shots. The growling on the opposite side of the table stops, and the weight against her shoulder falls away.

“Open up.” She hears a voice yell, and she pushes off of the table and slides it to the side.

Elyza stands in front of her, a gun in her hand and murder in her eyes.

“Do you have a fucking death wish?” she spits out.

“I…no. I just…” under the force of the blonde’s intense gaze, Alicia can only stammer.

“Just stay here, Princess. Think you can handle that?” Elyza sneers, then whips around, already firing her gun again.

Alicia leans against the doorframe, trying to find her strength, then follows the other girl out. Elyza has already disposed of the walkers that were clogging the ramp. Alicia walks delicately over their bodies as she makes her way down it. At the end of the ramp she stops and leans against the railing. She watches as Elyza runs towards the fire, where a small group of walkers still remains. She throws the weight of her body into one walker, knocking him into the fire. At the same time, she shoots another one that was coming at her from the side. The bullet hits the walker directly in the middle of the forehead. Elyza points the gun at another walker, but when she pulls the trigger Alicia can hear it click emptily. In a matter of seconds, Elyza has reloaded it, and she fires three shots in quick succession. They all hit their marks, and after the last body hits the ground hollowly, there is only silence. Elyza tucks the gun under her leather jacket, beneath the waistband of her bands, then walks back to Alicia.

Suddenly, one of the walkers by Alicia’s feet reaches up and grabs her leg. Alicia screams and tries to kick the hand off. Elyza shoots the walker mid stride, without even looking at it. The hand falls away.

Elyza comes to a stop in front of Alicia and wipes one drop of sweat from her forehead with her forearm. It’s the only sign that she’s exerted any sort of energy. She glares at Alicia. “Do you ever listen to instructions? I _told_ you to stay inside there…” she jabs a finger at the guard tower, “…and what do you do? You come out here. What is going on in the head of yours?”

To her horror, Alicia can feel tears springing to her eyes. Her body is exhausted, and her hopes of reunion with her family have been dashed, and now she’s getting a lecture from a girl who is barely older in her.

“I don’t know,” she says quietly. “I thought I could handle it.” She ducks her head and rubs at the bandage on her head so the other girl can’t see her watery eyes.

“Well clearly you can’t. And did you not realize a fire was the absolute dumbest thing you could do? Walkers are attracted to it.” Elyza sighs and turns around, starts to walk away. “I told you I’d help you find your family. And I will. But it would be easier if I didn’t have to keep saving your ass too.”

Alicia doesn’t reply, and Elyza turns to her. “Come on, I’ll take you back. You need to rest again. You’re not even fully healed yet.”

Truly, Alicia knows that she should do as Elyza says, but something about this girl ignites her stubborn streak. “No,” she says firmly. “I think I’ll find my own place to stay tonight.” At that, she turns around and walks back up towards the boardwalk.

Elyza is at her side in an instant. “You can’t. You know nothing about the walkers and you have nothing to defend yourself with.” She roughly grabs at Alicia’s arm, but Alicia pushes her away.

“Look. I’m grateful to you. You’ve saved my life twice now, and I owe you one. But the truth is…” Alicia looks directly at Eliza, at her angrily furrowed brows and her hard, unreadable eyes. “The truth is, I can’t stand you and I can’t stand you talking down to me. And I need you to leave me alone now.”

She makes it a few steps before Elyza reaches out again. “I can’t stand you either, Princess. But you need my help.”

Alicia huffs angrily at the condescending nickname. “No. I really don’t. And I never asked for it in the first place.”

This time, Alicia breaks into a jog. Elyza lets her go.

**\------**

Alicia finds her bike right where she left it, and she gets on it, wincing. The day has taken its toll on her and she needs to find a place to regroup. She peddles along slowly, wondering where she can go, where is safe. A hotel maybe, though that holds the potential of being a walker trap. No, her best bet is probably someone’s apartment or house.

She sets out in what she thinks is a good direction, towards more residential areas. She’s been riding for about five minutes before she hears the low rumble of a motorcycle approaching from her left. It comes to a stop of front of her, cutting her off, and Elyza is perched on top of it. The two girls regard each other.

“I’m sorry.” Elyza says after a moment, and Alicia thinks it’s the softest and most sincere the other girl has ever sounded. “I…It’s been a while since I’ve talked to anyone. I’ve mostly been avoiding people ever since this all happened. But I lost my family too. I know what it feels like.” Her eyes roam away then, become distanced and unfocused. “It’s lonely. Scary.” Her eyes focus again and her gaze grows more determined. “That’s why I want to help you find yours.”

Alicia is on the edge of saying yes, of just letting it all go, but then she remembers Elyza calling her princess, lecturing her about walkers, treating her like a child, like Madison had treated her.

“I’ll pass.” She says, turning her bike back towards where she came from and peddling a few feet.

“I’ll teach you how to shoot a gun.” Elyza calls out from behind her, and Alicia stops in her tracks. She looks back at Elyza over her shoulder.

“I’ll show you how to defend yourself. And then you can leave if you want, and I won’t try to stop you.”

Alicia pretends to think about it for a moment, but really her mind is already made up, the allure of learning about self defense more than enough to win her over. “Ok.” She nods.

Something sort of like a smile appears on Elyza’s face. “Ok then.” She gestures behind her. “Get on, Princess.” It’s definitely a smile. A small, tight smile, but something nonetheless.

Alicia rolls her eyes at the nickname, but gets on anyway.

As they ride back to the house, Alicia finally allows herself to feel her body’s weariness. Maybe, deep down, she is glad to be going to the house, to not have to deal with the stress of finding a place to survive for the night. She leans tiredly against Elyza’s back, her arms snaking around the other girl’s waist as she navigates the abandoned streets. If she feels Eliza tense at this simple touch, she doesn’t mention it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoped you enjoyed! Feedback is always appreciated :)
> 
> P.s- Omg you guys how do people write long chapters. This took me way too long to write and it's not even that long D:


	3. Chapter 3

Alicia wakes up to a faint jingling sound coming through the half opened window. She rubs her eyes blearily, stretches, then sits up. The night before she had stumbled into the house, weary to the bone, and Elyza had changed her bandages and then offered her the upstairs bedroom. It was definitely better than the couch, and Alicia is struck by how normal it feels to wake up in some strange teen’s room. She can almost pretend she had just been having a sleepover somewhere, instead of hiding from flesh eating walkers. Almost being the key word.

She stands up and walks towards the window, wondering at the source of the sound. Down below, on the front lawn, Elyza is kneeling by an open garbage bag that appears to be full of glass bottles and cans. She watches as Elyza cuts a long piece of twine from a ball near her feet, then ties it in a knot around the neck of a bottle. Her hands move expertly and assuredly with the string, just as they had with Alicia’s bandages. Not for the first time Alicia wonders about this strange girl’s background, how she can be equally good at healing and killing.

Elyza ties a few more of the bottles with the same piece of twine, then stands up and walks towards the low fence that surrounds the house’s small yard. She loops and knots the empty end of the twine around the top of the fence, the bottles hanging underneath, waving gently back and forth. Elyza steps back and nods to herself.

“Morning sunshine.” Alicia calls down, having decided that now is as good a time to interrupt as any.  

Elyza startles for a moment, then turns in Alicia’s direction, cupping her hand above her eyes. “Keep your voice down!” she hisses, looking around wildly.

“Oh, right.” Alicia says, a little embarrassed. She closes the window quietly and makes her way downstairs, out to the front yard.

Elyza stands there, shaking her head. “You’ll never learn,” she says, but her tone is less condescension and more gentle reprimand.

Alicia shrugs. “They didn’t teach apocalypse survival in school.” She looks towards the bag of bottles. “Anyway, need a hand with...whatever it is that you’re doing?”

“Setting up a perimeter,” Elyza says, turning to grab the string behind her and shaking it until it clanks loudly. “If a walker comes, we’ll know. Hopefully.”

“And here I thought you were just trying to decorate the space. Shame.” Alicia says sarcastically, watching as the ghost of a smile reaches Elyza’s lips. It’s gone all too quickly, as always, but Alicia vows to herself that one day she’ll get a laugh out of the other girl. She wonders what it would sound like.

They walk back over to the pile of bottles and settle cross legged on the ground. A few minutes pass as they work silently. Elyza gets one string of bottles done before Alicia has even started tying a second bottle to her string. Elyza sets hers to the side and picks up more twine. She fiddles with it for a moment, before clearing her throat. “I went to the beach today, looked for your boat,” she says gruffly.

Alicia’s hands still on the string, and she tries to keep her voice even. “Anything?”

Elyza shakes her head. “Nothing on the water.” She hesitates for a moment, then reaches into the pocket of her leather jacket and pulls something out. “But I did find this. It was buried in the sand right by the boardwalk.”

It’s Chris’s video camera.

Alicia gasps and reaches out, taking the camera gently from Elyza’s hands. She flips the screen up, dusting some last grains of sand off and running her fingers over a deep groove in the surface of the screen that hadn’t been there before. Her thumb comes to a rest on the play button. “Did you…?” Her voice cracks before she can finish her question, but Elyza knows what it was.

“I had to. It could’ve just been a random camera. But then...I saw you on it.” Alicia’s eyes get misty, and Elyza’s gaze slides from her face to her finger on the button. “I don’t know if you should watch it.”

“I have to.” Alicia says quietly, pressing the button down.

Chris’s face appears onscreen. He’s on The Abigail, laying flat on his back with the camera held above him. _Day 12 of being on this yacht. Still fucking miserable. I don’t think I can eat any more eel._ There are footsteps in the background, and Chris turns the camera away from him. _What are you do--can I--no!_ The words are muffled as the camera swings around wildly. Eventually, Ofelia’s face appears on screen, followed by Alicia’s as she peers over Ofelia’s shoulder. _Got it! Hello out there? What has Chris been talking to you about._ Chris mumbles something in the background, and Ofelia laughs. _You’re so strange._ The camera is tossed through the air back into Chris’s hands and Ofelia and Alicia’s footsteps retreat. _She wants me_ Chris whispers into the camera. _I heard that, you sicko_. Alicia’s voice is barely audible as the two women walk away. The camera catches Chris’s smirk.

Something in Alicia’s chest tightens painfully and she presses fast forward. She’s not sure if she can stomach any more scenes like that, showing her relatively happy little group before she lost them. She misses them all, even Chris. As Alicia holds the button down the images on the screen blur by. Nick’s face in the afternoon sun. Strand at the steering wheel. Blue waves washing up against the side of the boat. Chris’s face as he kills time talking to the camera. Then, land fast approaching. This is the part where they made their landing. She presses play again.

The camera shakes as Chris holds it in his palm. It’s aimed at the ground on Venice Beach. Bodies stare blankly up through the lens, and Chris mutters to himself in the background. _Some of these look human_ . The camera swings up as the group hits the boardwalk, and Chris walks with it aimed at his face now, the rest of the group visible over his shoulder as he leads the way. _Venice, California. June 3rd 2016._ He holds the camera up, aiming it at every storefront as he walks by. He stops at the freak show. _This is a freak show at the end of the world._ He keeps talking as he walks toward the double glass doors at the front of the building, the camera aimed straight out in front of him. He nears the window and Alicia tenses for what she knows is about to happen. _Wonder what’s in here_ . The camera pushes forward through the jagged hole in the window, and all Alicia sees is pitch blackness. _Shit_ . Chris yells as the camera falls down, crashing to the ground. The rest is a blur of image and sound as Chris picks up the camera and runs outside. Alicia can hear the screams of her mother off screen and Chris’s panting as he makes it back to the group. She sees a flash of white at the corner of the screen and hears her mom yell. _ALICIA_. Chris drops the camera again and it falls to the ground, showing the pavement stretched out in front of it. There are feet, frantically moving around in front of the lens, and yells and gunshots crackle tinnily through the camera speaker. Alicia hears a walker growl and then Nick’s face falls a few feet from the lens, his head hitting the ground hard, blood seeping out from behind his ear. The walker growls again, closer this time, and a shot rings out. Blood and brains splatter the screen as Nick’s eyes stare blankly into it and Alicia gasps and bites her lip so hard that she draws blood. Someone yells fiercely and seems to kick the camera away and the world on the screen spins and spins until the lens hits sand and is covered. The screen goes black.

Alicia drops the camera and claws at her chest. The air suddenly seems so thin, so hard to draw into her aching lungs. The tears come, hot and wet down her cheeks, and she groans. Her heartbeat pounds loudly, painfully through her body and inside her head. She barely registers Elyza at the edge of her devastation, but she feels weight on her shoulders, words being directed at her. She can’t react.

The weight leaves her shoulders, and minutes or days or years pass before they are back again. The weight moves to her face and this time she can feel what it is--cool, calloused hands cupping her cheeks and smoothing her tears away. In front of her, blue eyes shine with concern under furrowed brows.

“Look at me.” Elyza’s gaze never leaves her face. Alicia looks at her, seeks the steely strong force in them and feels comforted, safe. “Breathe.” Elyza says softly, and Alicia feels her lungs obey, air entering and leaving them quickly at first, and then more slowly, until her breathing feels almost regular. The pounding in her head stops, but the tears continue.

“What if they’re dead? And I left them. Left them there to die.” Alicia’s words are whispered through trembling lips. “I got away and they didn’t.”

“You don’t know that.” Elyza wipes Alicia’s tears away, then lets her hands slide off her face. Alicia finds herself missing them, doesn’t know why. “They were armed, they clearly were able to fight it. And you did what you had to do. There’s no use beating yourself up.”

“But Nick…”

“He was hurt, clearly, but not dead. And someone killed the walker by him. Someone in your group knows what they’re doing.”

Alicia snivels, feeling like a small child in need of comforting but unable to help herself. “I just...I don’t know what I’d do if they were gone.”

“You’d survive.” Elyza smiles one of her sad, secret smiles. “Just like you are now. There are always reasons to keep going. Even if it doesn’t seem worth it.” For just the slightest moment something sorrowful flits over Elyza’s face, a cloud blocking out the sun, but she blinks it away.

Alicia nods, releasing one last shaky breath. “Ok.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, tucks the pain away, dulls its sharpness. She’ll face it, eventually, the possibility of being the lone survivor in her group, but now is not the time. Her eyes scan the ground, almost bashful after her sudden outburst of emotion in front of her stoic companion. “I’m sorry,” Alicia says.

“Don’t be.” Elyza reaches out and lifts Alicia’s chin up unexpectedly and Alicia feels her skin prickle at the contact, goosebumps rising on her arms. “We’ll find your family.” Her voice is steady and assured and Alicia is taken aback by the force of her belief that this hardened girl in front of her will keep her word.

“I know,” Alicia breathes out.

\------

“Tell me about the walkers.”

They had gone back to work after Alicia’s outburst that morning, the steady motion of tying the twine around the bottles helping to calm Alicia’s nerves further. They’ve been working in silence until now, Alicia feeling Elyza’s gaze on her occasionally, as if the other girl is scared she’s going to bolt. _I won’t. You are all I have right now. Whether I like it or not_.

Elyza takes the question in stride, her hands never ceasing at her work. “I only know what I’ve seen really. They’re guided by the few sensations they can still feel. Noise, smell, and heat. Like your fire...” Elyza glances up at her, a smirk playing over her lips, and Alicia blushes lightly.

“Fire bad. Got it.”

“Seems like the fresher ones are faster. Those are probably the ones that were chasing you. And they’re tireless, I think. I saw one trapped in a cage, it kept ramming its head into the side, there were...pieces of its body falling off. But it kept going.”

Alicia shudders at the thought.

“I wonder how they deal with water,” Elyza muses.

“Not well.” Alicia offers up, happy to be able to contribute something. “I saw one once, when we were on the boat. It was floating, must’ve been washed from shore. It could kick,” she mimes the walker’s actions in water, only slightly exaggerated, and earns another small smile from Elyza “but that’s about it. I don’t think they’re able to do much out there.”

“Good to know.”

“Do you know why it’s happening? What caused it?”

“No. I don’t know if anyone does. People just die, and then they turn.” Alicia sees Matt’s face, sweating, swollen, diseased, as he battled whatever it was the was rising inside of him. He had not been the boy she had fallen in love with then but merely a shadow of him. She closes her eyes against the image.

“Nothing seems to happen,” Elyza continues. “It’s like a switch flips on. Like it’s already in all of us. The only way I’ve seen to stop it is to shoot someone in the head, after they die. Something to do with damaging the brain, the trauma it causes.”

Elyza glances at Alicia and takes in the tense lines on her face, the balled fists that she doesn’t even realize she’s making. “But the thing is, they’re only really dangerous when they’re all together. Just one person and a couple walkers? That’s no problem. That should be easy. It’s only when they group together that they’re really dangerous.”

Alicia knows that Elyza means this to reassure her, but it only agitates her more. “So why even travel alone then? What happens if you run into a group and it’s just you? That seems like a risk.”

“I can take them,” Elyza says, her chin rising with pride.

“But you can’t be sure of that. There were eight people in our group and we were still overtaken.”

“Your group handled the situation poorly. I’m not stupid enough to let that happen to me.”

Alicia feels a hot surge of anger at the return of Elyza’s superior attitude. “So you’re saying we were being stupid.”

Elyza closes her mouth. Alicia can see the other girl’s jaw muscles working under the skin as she clenches them. “That’s not what I meant,” Elyza bites out finally.

“Oh, really. Then tell me what you did mean.”

“I meant...Chris’s actions were stupid, maybe. That’s what I meant. The rest was an accident. You were unprepared. It’s harder to be, when you’re in a group. You need discipline. You need a plan.”

Alicia considers that for a moment and realizes she can’t argue with that. Chris _had_ been being a little stupid, going off on his own like that. And yes, her group could have been bettered prepared. She feels her anger evaporate. “Fair enough, I guess. Is what why you travel alone?”

Elyza nods. “Yes. And I prefer to be on my own in general.”

Alicia searches her face, takes in the tense muscles, the injuries, the black circles under her eyes. “Do you really? It seems...lonely.”

“Yes,” Elyza says, that dangerous edge returning to her voice. Alicia can almost see the switch going off, the shutters closing, not letting her in. “I get that it’s hard for a girl like you to understand, Princess, but other people are just liabilities.” She leans forward and picks up the string she had abandoned during the conversation, and Alicia knows it’s a signal that this particular conversation is over. She sighs and grabs her string again.

They are quiet then, focusing on their work, lost in their own thoughts. They keep at it for about an hour, until they have a good amount of strings completed, and then they tie them around the yard. When they are done, the tension in the air between them has lessened considerably, and Alicia decides to press her luck.

“So, in the interest of being less of a liability, when can we get started on those shooting lessons?”

Elyza looks up at her, gaze unreadable. “Do you have an off switch?”

Alicia smiles, “Nope.”

Elyza sighs and sticks her hands in her pockets. “Fine. We can start whenever you want.”

“How about now?”

“Now works.”

Alicia grins triumphantly.

\------

“You want me to go up there?”

“Yes.”

“You do realize I’m injured? I have a head injury. It could be serious.”

“You’ve been fine until now.”

“I think you should check again.”

“Stop stalling.”

Alicia takes her eyes off the fire escape that winds along the outside wall of the fifteen story building that looms above her and looks sideways at Elyza. “I’m not a fan of heights.” She admits quietly. “I climbed onto my school’s roof sometimes. But that’s about as much as I can deal with.” There’s that familiar pain at the memory of a place that’s so closely associated with Matt, but it’s duller than it’s been before, like pushing on an old bruise.

“I’m sorry about that. Really I am.” Elyza looks at her face for a moment, then over her shoulder. “But you don’t have much of a choice.” She grabs Alicia and turns her to her right. There’s a group of five or so walkers down the street, heading in their direction.

“Shit!” Alicia yells.

Elyza jumps up to grab the fire escape ladder and drags it down so that it hangs only inches from the ground. “After you, Princess,” she gestures towards the ladder.

Alicia grits her teeth and starts climbing, Elyza right behind her carrying another garbage bag with the leftover bottles they hadn’t used.  

“Just don’t look down,” Elyza yells up at her. “It’s easier than you think.”

“Sure it is.” Alicia mutters. She tries not to focus on the small glimpses of the ground she can see through the perforated metal of the stairs. _One foot in front of the other_.

The afternoon sun is hot on their backs, and Alicia can feel her forehead beading with sweat. Her palms grow slick on the railing, and she can’t help but think about them slipping, toppling over the edge, her body falling backwards towards the ground to become food for the growling walkers below. All of a sudden she feels dizzy.

“I need a minute,” Alicia says, stopping on a landing between two flights of stairs. She pushes hair off of her face, then rests her palms on her knees. Her breath comes fast and hot.

Elyza lets her rest for a few long moments, then presses her hand to her forehead and looks up. “We’re over halfway there. Not much longer now.”

Alicia knows that that’s about as much encouragement as she’s ever going to get from the other girl. “Wonderful,” she says sarcastically, pushing herself up and continuing onwards.

It takes about fifteen more minutes to get to the top, and when they do, Alicia leans gratefully against the short railing that lines the outside of the rooftop, taking it all in. It appears to have been some sort of luxury apartment complex. There’s a tiki bar sitting catty-corner on the far side of the roof, and a jumble of glistening white lawn chairs and loungers arrayed around on all sides. In the center lies a long, glistening pool full of clear blue water.

“Please tell me you actually brought us up here to swim,” Alicia says. Elyza just looks at her, face impassive. “No of course not. No fun allowed in the apocalypse.”

Elyza drops the garbage bag and brushes by her. “I brought you up here because it’s going to be loud and we need to be as far away from any walkers as possible.”

“How do you know this place isn’t full of them?” Alicia asks.

“Sign in the lobby.” Elyza stops at the end of the pool and removes her shotgun holster and leather jacket, revealing a plain white tank top and a handgun stuck under her waistband. “It says the place was evacuated due to whatever was spreading. It’s clear.” Alicia watches as Elyza readies the gun with expert movements.

“Could you?” Elyza gestures at the bag of bottles at Alicia’s feet, then at the end of the pool opposite her. “I’ll demonstrate first.”

Alicia grabs four of the bottles and walks to the railing. She balances them on it, spaced a good distance apart from each other. Then she jogs over to where Elyza is standing at the opposite end of the pool. From here the bottles look positively tiny, and their clearness makes them even harder to see.

“Sure you can handle this?” Alicia teases as Elyza brings the gun up. Alicia watches the other girl’s arm muscles ripple and stiffen as she prepares to shoot. Her mouth suddenly feels very dry.

“Look at the bottles,” Elyza says, and Alicia does. Elyza fires four shoots in a row.

Alicia sees that the bottles are there, and then suddenly they aren’t. They explode, pieces flying in the air, catching the sunlight in a burst of deadly fireworks before falling to the ground with a faint tinkling sound. Alicia gasps. She had seen the other girl’s accuracy before, but never this close.

“Wow.”

Elyza turns to her, a full blown smirk on her face. “Your turn, Princess.”

\------

Before Alicia ever shoots the gun though, Elyza teaches her the basics.

“This is a Glock 26. It’s easy, accurate. It won’t do any wrong unless you do wrong with it.” Alicia holds the cool metal in her palms, almost reverently. She’s never liked guns, but she can’t deny the power she feels having one in her hands. _This is necessary. This will save your life and the lives of the people you love._

“Here’s the safety.” Elyza shows Alicia how to lock and unlock the safety with her thumb. “Never ever have it off unless you’re ready to shoot.” Then Elyza takes the gun back and presses a button on the side. She catches the part that comes out. “This is the magazine. Ten rounds. Pretty standard.” Elyza shows her how to empty and fit the magazine with cartridges. It takes a few fumbling attempts but Alicia gets it down. “Good,” Elyza says. She takes the magazine out and hands the unloaded gun to Alicia.

“Now, for the actual shooting of it.”

Alicia stands with the gun pointed in front of her as Elyza circles her, instructing her on the best way to stand.

“Legs apart. You can lock them if you want, but I always try to keep mine bent.” Alicia spreads her legs to shoulder distance, bends her knees just slightly.

“Your arms should be fully extended, but not locked. You need to deal with the recoil.” Alicia tries to do as she’s told, but it doesn’t feel right. “Your shoulders are too tense. Relax,” Elyza says. She gets behind Alicia and rests her hands on the taller girl’s shoulders. She rubs them, just once, but Alicia feels her body melt at the touch. She feels a twinge in her stomach, like the jolt you feel when you hit a bump just right in your car, but then Elyza lets go of her and the feeling is gone.

“That’s better,” Elyza says. “Now grip it tighter. Always tighter than you expect.” Alicia does.

“Ok. So now the most important part. The trigger. Go ahead and do it they way you think it’s done.”

Alicia concentrates and uses her pointer finger to pull the trigger back as hard as possible. “Like that?”

Elyza shakes her head. “Not at all. People say you pull the trigger but that’s not necessarily true. It’s sort of like...pressing. You press the trigger. It should be fluid, smooth.” Elyza shows her how to do it and Alicia tries. She fights the desire to pull the trigger with urgency and instead swipes it back towards herself. She’s not sure if she’s getting it right, but Elyza nods her head and doesn’t correct her.

“Ok, Princess. Ready to give it a try?”

“As much as I’ll ever be.”

Elyza jogs to the garbage bag at the side of the pool and grabs four more bottles out of it. She rests them on the railing, just as Alicia had done. Then she jogs back.

“Ok load the gun and get in your stance,” Elyza says, and Alicia does, with only a little bit of difficulty. “Now see that little raised bit, on the end of the barrel? That’s the sight. Line that up with your target.”

Alicia lifts the gun up and raises it to around eye level. She grips it hard and tenses her arm muscles. She feels Elyza’s eyes on her from behind and the skin on her neck prickles.

“Now try and empty your head. Focus on your sight and your target. Nothing else matters.”

A bottle sits directly in front of her, in her line of vision. She brings the gun up to where she thinks it should be. The black dot of the sight lines up with the middle of the neck of the bottle. Her finger feels clammy on the trigger.

“Focus,” Elyza says lowly behind her, and Alicia narrows her eyes. The bottle shines in front of her. Clear. Hard. She focuses on the sunlight playing over the glass, on the gentle sound of the pool as the water laps at the sides.

“Shoot.”

Alicia presses the trigger.

The gun recoils and Alicia feels her arm muscles accept it. That’s not as bad as she expected it to be. But the bottle still stands there, pristine, untouched.

“You jerked to the right before you shot. Try again.”

Alicia repeats her process from before, but this time she tries to keep her muscles as controlled as possible. No jerking. She shoots. The bottle still stands. She shoots again. Still nothing.

“You’re not keeping your eyes on your your target. Again.”

Alicia is growing impatient. She hates how weak she looks in front of Elyza, how incapable of defending herself. Sun winks off of the bottle’s surface, taunting her. _One more time._  She bites her lip and brings the gun up again, aims the sight dead center. Sweat drips down her right temple, at the bottom of her bandage but she ignores it. She rests the pad of her finger on the trigger, then pushes it back. The shot rings out.

The bottle is still there.

Alicia shoots again and again and again and still the bottle is does not move.

She feels all of her power leave her body. Her ears ring and her hands feel cramped. She slumps over, the gun at her side now, useless. “Maybe there’s a reason my mom wouldn’t let me use one of these,” she says bitterly.  

Elyza moves closer to her, takes the gun from her limp hand. “Take a minute. Relax. Loosen up.”

Alicia tenses. “I am loose!” She feels petulant, overheated, tired of failure. “I am loose and I am focused and I can’t do it.” She presses the heels of her hands to her head and exhales sharply. “Maybe we should come back to this.”

Elyza regards her. Her face, as always, is inscrutable. “There’s still a couple shots left. Give it one more try.”

Alicia wants to say no, wants to revert back to stubbornness and succumb to her tiredness, but her pride is too great. She knows she won’t be able to leave until she succeeds.

“One more try.”

Elyza returns the gun to Alicia’s hand, and Alicia expects her to retreat back to her spot behind Alicia so that she can observe. Instead, she stays.

“Stance,” Elyza says, and Alicia gets in position. “Grip.” Alicia holds the gun tightly, hand muscles flexing. “Sight.” She brings the gun up to her eye level. The black dot lines up with the bottle.

Elyza takes a step closer. Then closer still, until she is standing right behind Alicia.

Alicia can feel the other girl’s body heat against her back. She bites her lip as the twinge in her stomach returns. Elyza brings her arms up and under Alicia’s, resting her hands on top of Alicia’s. Their skin slides together, the hard muscles of Elyza’s arms next to the leanness of Alicia’s, and Alicia feels shocks where they touch, an electrical current running through her body and winding it up. “Focus,” Elyza says, and she moves their hands together on the gun, shifting the sight almost imperceptibly. The movement brings her body even closer, and Alicia can feel the other girl’s breasts against her back, just barely brushing beneath her shoulder blades. She feels that twinge in her stomach again, but harder, lower. Her mouth feels too dry. Elyza takes her hands off of Alicia’s and they come to a rest at her hips, not gripping but hovering, so that Alicia can barely feel them.

“Now shoot,” Elyza whispers, her lips just millimeters from the back of Alicia’s neck. Alicia feels the words as hot exhalations against her humming skin. The delicate hairs at the nape of her neck prickle and stand on edge.

She shoots.

The bottle explodes.

Elyza steps away and Alicia whips around in amazement.

Elyza smiles. A genuine, full smile that reaches her eyes. “You’re a natural,” she says. And Alicia bounds forward and flings her arm around the other girl’s neck before she even knows what she’s doing.

“Thank you,” Alicia mumbles the words into Elyza’s hair and when she draws back they’re both blushing.

\------

They stay on the roof for an hour or two, until the sun starts to sink and the air grows cooler. Alicia misses a lot of bottles, but she hits some of them too, and Elyza smiles at the delight and triumph on Alicia’s face and Alicia smiles at Elyza’s smiles.

They leave after Alicia has hit two bottles in a row, and Alicia makes it back down the fire escape without incident. There’s a small group of walkers waiting for them at the bottom, but Elyza dispenses with them cleanly and quickly, and they get onto her motorcycle.

On the ride home, Alicia grips Elyza’s waist tightly and rests her chin on the blonde’s leather jacket. She strokes a circle above Elyza’s hip, where her hand rests under her jacket, and watches the blush creep up Elyza’s neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate guns and know nothing about them D:


End file.
